


Unwanted

by pickleplum



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Assault, Athene Noctua Verse, Bad Parenting, Bad reputations, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Knitting, Mild Sexual Content, Neurodiversity, Parent-Child Relationship, Sexual Assault, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Orientation, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Theft, Touch Aversion, Troubled kids, Vomiting, sex-repulsion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/pseuds/pickleplum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first kiss for <em>Vulcan Specter</em>'s left hemisphere is all the proof he needs to know he's not cut out to be a sex symbol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> 6 December 2006  
> Port Macquarie, Australia

\- sure doesn't need a light to stand out (30/04/14, Cape Town) -

"I know the perfect place," says Melody, dragging Logan down the hall to the stairwell. She lets go of his hand—he stumbles—and pushes him back into the space under the stairs until his shoulder blades grind into the wall.

Logan swallows, fights his urge to—

Melody drapes her arms around his neck, stretches herself against him, breasts—

His face gets hot and he presses himself as flat to the wall as he can.

—tight against him, purrs, "Can't **believe** I've got you to myself."

His hands flutter at his sides.

"I've wanted this for-absolutely- **ever**." She scratches his nape, kisses the corner of his mouth, kisses his lips, kisses him deeply.

Logan digs his nails into his palms.

Melody hums; she kisses and kisses and there're sounds and spit and more kisses and Logan's heart thumps so hard she **must** feel it. She drags her nails down his sides, smiles into a kiss as Logan shudders.

His stomach lurches, throat tightens—

Fingernails dig into his back and Melody slots her hips with his.

Logan jerks his head so sharply it _crack_ s against the wall. "Melody ... stop," he croaks.

She goes up on tiptoes, nips at his throat.

He grabs her arms, forces them down, shoves her back a step. " **Stop.** "

For eighteen eternal seconds, they stare at each other.

"Logan, you're hurting me," she whimpers.

He yanks his hands away, face flaming again.

Melody glares, eyes sparking. 

Logan blinks, remembers how to breathe.

She smacks him **straight** across the face—

He checks a swing at hers.

—snarls, "You should be **thanking** me, ye asswipe!" Spins on her heel and runs off.

Logan sags against the wall, waits the seven minutes it takes for his breathing to return to normal before slinking home by the long, quiet way, stopping once, shaking too violently to walk, to retch.

He lifts a coke from a milk bar to wash the taste from his mouth and finishes his tripe. 

Dad and Mum wait in the kitchen; Mum perches on a chair looking like she's sucked a lemon, Dad's scowling and pacing.

Logan leans on the counter, crosses his arms.

"Melody Kern's parents called," says Dad.

"Good for them."

"None of your attitude," Dad spits. "She came home with great ugly bruises around both her wrists. Says **you** grabbed her so hard she thought you'd break her arms."

Logan scoffs.

"So you **did** grab her."

Shrugs.

"You assaulted a girl. For **no** **reason**."

Bile claws up the back of Logan's throat; he swallows, grits out, "You don't want my side."

"Your 'side' doesn't—"

Jams his twitching hands into his pockets.

"—matter. You've got form for this, Logan, **and** you're a liar."

Puts on the blandest face he can manage.

"Don't you feel at **all** sorry?"

Glares, jaw tight.

Mum sighs. "He **can't** feel remorse, Michael; we've been over this. He's incapable of empathy. It's part of his pathology."

Dad turns his attention to her. "So we're stuck raising a monster, ay?" Throws up his hands. " **You're** the psychologist, why don't **you** do something to fix him?"

"He can't **be** fixed. He inherited a predisposition to sociopathy from **your** family."

"So this is **my** fault?!"

Logan rolls his eyes, creeps out the back door into the yard. He hops the fence and sets out—slides to a stop.

Uniform.

He stands out like a fucking lighthouse in it and's damn lucky he didn't get pinched earlier.

Checks his pockets.

Nothing.

Nanny's it is, then.

He takes off at a jog, angling inland toward her house. Twenty-two minutes later, he opens her gate, climbs the front steps, and rings the bell. Shifts his feet as the lock _chack_ s.

Nanny smiles, greets warmly, "Hello, love."

"Hi, Nanny."

She steps aside. "What brings you over tonight?"

Logan kicks his shoes into the closet. "Can I get something to eat? Haven't had dinnie yet."

Nanny heads to the kitchen. "Of course. I'll put something together for you."

He follows. "No, that's okay. I'll do it." Swallows. "Need to keep my hands ...."

"Help yourself to anything that looks good." She smiles again, bustles off to the living room.

Logan digs in the fridge, assembles a sandwich and nabs some sort of pasta salad. He slides in at the table, sets to stuffing himself.

Nanny comes back with her knitting.

Logan eats.

Nanny's needles _click-click_.

That's all they do for a twenty-nine minutes.

Logan pushes his plate away, sits back.

_click-click_

He sighs.

_click-click_

Busses his dishes into the sink, tidies the counter.

_click-click_

Slumps into the chair.

_click-click_

Deep breath, eyes on hands on tabletop. "I—I let Melody kiss me."

_click-click_

"I just—" Swallows again. "I know—I'm—it's supposed to feel good, right?"

"If it's the right person kissing you, yes."

"Oh, uh—" Weak laugh. "—maybe that's why I got sick."

Nanny rests her knitting in her lap. "'Butterflies in your stomach' or 'light-headed' sick?"

"'Chucking my lunch in a bush' sick."

"Oh. My. Are you alright now?"

"Yea. Was fine by the time I got home."

"Hmm ... that seems a bit of an extreme reaction to a kiss ...."

Logan ducks his head, whispers, "I let her kiss me and we were kissing and my stomach went funny—" Deep breath. "—so I asked her to stop and—" Swallows. "—she didn't, so I grabbed her arms and pushed her away." Snorts. "Then she hit me, called me an asswipe, and ran off."

"Logan, love, she assaulted you."

He blinks. "But—"

"She needed to stop the **moment** you said 'stop'." Sets her teeth. "She didn't and that's assault. No question."

Logan rubs his neck.

"You were only protecting yourself. I'm sure Melody would've done **exactly** the same thing if your places had been reversed."

"And I'd be expelled and charged."

"Perhaps."

"'course I would be." Sneers, "I've got form for it **and** I'm a liar."

"Was that your mother or your father?"

"Dad."

Nanny shakes her head sadly. "Where did that one go wrong?"

Logan huffs, droops. Scrubs a hand down his face.

"There's **nothing** wrong with you, Logan."

"I didn't—" Swallows.

"Not enjoying or not wanting to kiss Melody means you don't want to kiss Melody again. That's all." Chuckles. "Just like I don't want to kiss Mr Carr down the block, no matter **how** many times he asks."

Logan laughs, sighs to a stop, lets his head fall back.

"Maybe you'll find the right girl—"

Sniffs.

"—or boy—"

Snorts.

"—for you someday."

_click-click_ go Nanny's needles.

Logan breathes deeply, sits up straighter.

_click-click_

"Nanny ... I don't think I wan—will." Deep breath, plows on. "Jack's always on about how pretty girls make him all warm and—" Fluttery gesture. "I never feel like that. About anyone. Ever." Drops his voice to a whisper, "Even the kissing scenes in my books gross me out." Shudders.

_click-click_

"I don't think it's normal." Swallows. "'s why I let Melody ... just to test." Sighs. "I'm even more **wrong** than we thought."

"Logan, dear, there's nothing wrong with you. You are who you are. You can be perfectly happy as a single person."

Logan grunts, crosses his arms on the table, lets his forehead rest on them.

_click-click_

That's all they do for seven minutes.

The phone rings; Logan jumps.

Nanny puts down her knitting, crosses the room, answers, "Eady."

Logan exhales tension.

"Hello, Michael."

Closes his eyes—

"Yes, he's here."

—sighs.

"He told me about it, yes."

Huffs.

"Did you ask for his—"

‒Why're you even asking?‒

"No need to curse, dear."

Snorts.

"If you'd rather I went—"

‒Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.‒

"I understand."

‒Shit.‒

"Would you rather he stay here for the night?"

‒ _Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease._ ‒

"I should rephrase: **I** would rather he stay here for the night."

‒Please?‒

Nanny sighs. "Yes, Michael. I'll drive him over as soon as we get bundled up. See you shortly." Hangs up, takes a deep breath, moves to Logan's side. "Sorry, love, but I need to take you back to your parents'."

He hauls himself to his feet. "'s'okay." Stretches. "Need fresh kit anyway."

"You're taking this well."

Shrugs. "Don't have much choice if I want clothes and sleep."

Nanny laughs a little.

Logan bends for his shoes, stuffs his feet in, straightens, smiling weakly.

"May I hug you?" asks Nanny quietly.

He shrinks away. "No—not now, 'least. I'm still—" Twitchy gesture.

"I understand, love." She gives him a once-over. "Put on the guest jumper so you don't catch a chill."

"'m not Jack," Logan mumbles as he threads himself through the woolie.

"But I'm still your grandmother and the manual requires I say it."

Logan rolls his eyes, leads Nanny out the door and down to the kerb and her car.

**Author's Note:**

> Photo by [warrenski](https://www.flickr.com/photos/warrenski/) [[CC BY-SA 2.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/) ] via [Flickr](https://www.flickr.com/photos/warrenski/2375430432/).
> 
> So, yeah. Logan's firmly on the ace spectrum, which I've more or less known since he became more than just Conn-pod filler. But it's so _weird_ seeing him in a situation where he is rather clearly not the one in control (or at least convinced he's in control), that it's kinda uncomfortable for me. I'm used to this rude, unflappable, devious asshole and here's this awkward kid trying desperately to not freak the fuck out.
> 
> For the record, Melody didn't tell a tall tale to get Logan in trouble. She just omitted the context surrounding why Logan grabbed her arms and Logan's well-established reputation for violence and trouble filled the gap.


End file.
